


just another way to fly

by ThatGirlTheyKnow



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatGirlTheyKnow/pseuds/ThatGirlTheyKnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His own personal demon, come to claim his soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just another way to fly

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of chapter 21 of my project "365 Stories". This is not beta read. I don't own anything except the plot.  
> The title is from the song "Photographic Memory" by Emilie Autumn.

His house is quiet and still when he wakes from the nightmare. The dogs are asleep and the silence threatens to be broken at any moment, ringing loudly in his ears. Will refuses to open his eyes. He can feel _him_ , in the house or perhaps even in the room, and he doesn’t want to acknowledge that just yet.

"Will," comes the voice, the smooth, and beautiful and deadly. “I know you are awake.”

"Go away," Will whispers, because if he doesn’t, the illusion of defence will be lost. He can’t admit that he’s doomed. He can’t admit that he’s given up. He can’t admit that he’s tired and just wants release – from the trauma of his work, from the demon that wears the skin of his friend (from his friend that is the demon).

A warm hand rests on his arm. Will jerks back and opens his eyes to glare.

Hannibal is there, like he always his when the night is at its darkest, sitting on the edge of Will’s bed neat and pristine and non-threatening. Looking as though everything is normal.

He is Will’s own personal demon, come to claim his soul.

Will gets out of bed, but he’s still shaking from the dream - death and blood and pain - and he falls to his knees. He lets his head fall forward and he starts praying. He’d learnt a lot of prayers, when he’d realised what Hannibal was.

The demon laughs softly. “My dear Will, you should know by now that holy words will not help you.” To prove his point, Hannibal walks up to Will and places a hand on the back of his neck. He rubs in a mockery of comfort. For a moment, he curls his hand around Will’s neck and they both know that it would barely be an effort for him to just _squeeze_.

Will takes a deep breath and tries to stop shaking. He raises his head so his face is to the ceiling and closes his eyes. He continues praying – or begging, a simple mantra of _Lord save me Lord save me Lord save me_ – but as Hannibal starts to chuckle again, his voice leaves him. It doesn’t matter, anyway. If the Lord can hear him, He obviously has better things to do than to try to save an already corrupt man.

Will opens his eyes and Hannibal looks down on him with an amused expression and one raised eyebrow.

The demon offers Will a hand - Will takes it, because at least his if he stands he’ll regain some level of control. When he’s on his feet, he tries to move away, back to bed so he can drift off to sleep and face human monsters instead of hellish ones. He knows that if he did, Hannibal would let him sleep. Tell him he needs his strength for when he finally gives in and joins him.

The demon, however, does not let go of his hand. Will is forced to stand inches away from him, so he can smell the expensive cologne and the smokes of Hell. It’s an odd smell, but familiar now – and tantalising, reaching something in Will that makes heat furl in his stomach.

"Why can’t you just leave me alone?" he whispers. Every night, his resistance fades just that bit more. He doesn’t try to move away from Hannibal tonight. He doesn’t move at all. He meets Hannibal’s eyes and there is something welcoming in that darkness he dreads. A relief, maybe.

Or maybe it's all another lie.

The demon looks at him almost sympathetically, and cups his face with his free hand. Will, tired and cold, can’t help but lean into the warmth. “Will,” he says, and presses his lips to Will’s. They taste like blood and fire, and Will opens his mouth as if on instinct. When Hannibal moves away, he is smiling. “You know that I will not stop until your soul is mine.”


End file.
